That fair face will as years roll on lose its beauty, and old age will bring its wrinkles to the brow.
My bark, once struck by the fury of the storm, dreads again to approach the place of danger.
It is art to conceal art. -Ars est celare artem
The man who has experienced shipwreck shudders even at a calm sea.
It is expedient that there should be gods, and, since it is expedient, let us believe that gods exist.
It is hope which makes the shipwrecked sailor strike out with his arms in the midst of the sea, though no land is in sight.